


comfort among the stars

by Lizzen



Category: Hannibal (TV) RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Polyamory, Robots, Space Pirates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-23
Updated: 2013-12-23
Packaged: 2018-01-05 15:58:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1095881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lizzen/pseuds/Lizzen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>space can be lonely on the long route to Earth with contraband livers of unknown origin in storage</p>
            </blockquote>





	comfort among the stars

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dextrosinistral](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dextrosinistral/gifts).



> so, uh. SPACE PIRATES AU !!!!!!!1. Thanks to the usual suspects for your support in this endeavor.

 

> **one**

Space can be lonely on the long route to Earth with contraband livers of unknown origin in storage.

*  
When the Money decides on Hettienne Park as ship's captain, she agrees without looking at the contract terms or haggling for a higher percentage. Of course, she makes the appearance of grimacing and squinting at the screen; this is business after all. But this is a business and she knows their reputation. She knows the work the Money has done in the past and she wants nothing else but to be part of it.

Also, her mother will be tickled pink to have a pirate captain for a daughter.

*  
Hettienne makes a coup when she lands Mikkelsen as ship's curator, beating out a reputable job offer from Mr. Feige. It's not that she plays dirty, per se; it's that Mr. Feige, a legitimate businessman and a juggernaut, has little to offer Mikkelsen in the _Thor_ Fleet. Mikkelsen is a family man, yes, with an eye for increasing his coffers, but he also has an eye for the goods Hettienne plans to carry and the prestige it will give him to be part of her team.

Sometimes piracy is the best option for a man of refined tastes and a singular ambition.

Mikkelsen will be her ace in the hole to improve business; he knows the right items to purchase (and the right items to steal), and how to keep them whole and pristine in the ship's hold on the long trek from the colonies to Earth.

Her ship was once part of a much bigger fleet; decades ago, the _Hannibal_ was a force to be reckoned with in any market. Now, with just one ship, the Money makes shrewder decisions. They would not be famous for being the fastest or flashiest ship; they would be famous because of the goods they carried – unique, twisted, divine.

The colonies are ripe with goods, the real deal (stolen centuries ago) or perfectly replicated: vintage French wine, supercharged Jaguar XJRs, ancient harpsichords, Egyptian cotton sheets, Steuben chandeliers, Vermeer paintings, sapone di mandorle, Gien French china; not to mention the flesh and organs of various and sundry for consumption. All are illegal to transport; all are desperately wanted on Earth.

Which brings us back to Mikkelsen, and how important it is to get him on board. The role drew him, for sure; but if Hettienne is being honest, what really turned the tide was Dancy.

*  
UK Enterprises puts out a few Hugh models a decade; the Laurie and Grant were both profitable in their own ways, with an insufferable amount of charm in their personality circuits. The Dancy, however, was built for form as well as function. Handsome was a word to label the model; many through the years had more poetic and much more crass ways of describing him. The model functioned best as a ship's pilot; it had a creative intensity that could absorb the big picture as well as tell you exactly what design the carpets had in every room he visited.

As such, captains often had a Dancy at the helm, and madams of certain establishments often had a Dancy available for hire.

The Dancy that Hettienne hires has been both. Most recently he worked for Nina Arianda and been enjoyed eight times a week. That job gave him more of a unique reputation than a personal fortune. Money he had made on the _King Arthur_ , a dreadnaught battleship that fought in the war less than a decade ago. That's where he had met Mikkelsen.

Six months of killing the enemy together, and spending any other waking moment conversing about the stars over bread and beer, and sleeping in the same bunk for warmth. Dancy, of course, didn't share in the drinking, or the sleeping, or the needing of warmth; but he felt something fighting next to this man that gave him a sense of comfort.

Androids weren't built to feel much of anything, so he kept it quiet. If Mikkelsen suspected anything, he never said. (They never fucked, which Dancy regretted later when fucking was all he did. But Mikkelsen was a family man then too.)

*  
Hettienne's crew is small, distinct, and come with strong references.

  * She knew to keep out of medical unless she was dying; having two doctors was a slight drain on profits but they came as a matched set. Torres and Fishburne are both fierce in a firefight as well as the best at stitching you back together after one. Like any weathered pirate worth his or her salt, the two are accustomed to life in a ship. There isn't one bone in their body that yearns to be planet side; space had been their home a long time. She trusts them to keep it together on the long journey.
  * Her second is Dhavernas. The Money had learned years ago that the _Hannibal_ was best run by women. She has a lot to thank Foster and Moore for their distinct cleverness in moving illegal goods in the past. The Money thinks a lot of Dhavernas, she has proven herself in battle before. Leadership comes easy to her, and Hettienne appreciates the woman's passion to quality work.
  * Their first shipment was to be unmistakably flawless and immense; so when Mikkelsen requests an assistant, the Money hires Miss Rohl. Rumor has it that one of the endeavor's backers gave up her share in order to pay for the new girl's salary. Rumor has it Miss Rohl is the daughter of a wealthy businessman with connections the Money needed. She is young, almost too young to be a proper apprentice, but the talent is there as well as a cunning eagerness. Under Mikkelsen's guidance, she will learn how to choose fine wines, know the difference between awful and offal, and decide which theremin in the hold would raise a higher price than the other. Of all the crew, Hettienne worries about her sanity in the journey, being young and unaccustomed to the life. (She is forgetting how ambition in a young woman can beat out all other emotion.)



*  
Routes from the colonies to Earth are outlined and monitored by the Government. This gives those with illegal cargo two choices:

One, you could risk a government route if you are well shielded, if you are rich enough to send out bribes, if you are incredibly foolhardy.

Two, you could risk the wilds of space on an unsanctioned route. Not something many pirates did; and fewer survived the journey.

And you couldn't just fly out and expect to come out the other side alive, or sane.

The Money hired a madman to design their new route; a madman and a genius, with a fondness for dogs and horror films. "It will work," he had promised them, and they trusted his word. (Reputation was everything; and oh what wonders he had done in the past for others; others who had spit in his face and shut down his routes for not being profitable enough. The Money saw his talent, and respected it.)

On the edge of known space, Mikkelsen confirms that the cargo in the hold is ready for the long trip. Dancy calculates the route into the ship's computer and at Hettienne's directive, they enter wild space with only the mildest concern.

Lightheaded at the prospects of success, Hettienne orders her crew to each taste a bottle of Château d'Yquem from the hold in celebration of their collective mad undertaking. (If Mikkelsen's eyes linger on Dancy's carefully constructed face, no one makes note of it.) Hettienne drinks in the sweetness of the burning gold liquid, and drinks in the fierce determination of her crew and the hope of their prospects. They would beat out the competition; they would become infamous beyond the Money's wildest dreams. The prestige would resonate for years.

*  
They were deep in the nebula before anyone knew they had a stowaway.

 

> **two**

Ahead by half a year, the Captain of _The Following_ is determined to have all the glory of arriving at Earth with such horrors to delight any palate or craving. He knows _Bates Motel_ and _Hannibal_ are behind him in schedule, filled with goods that Earth had been accustomed to in the past, distant and recent. They are dangerous to his success and that of the money backing his adventure. He must be first, he must be the best.

Measures are in place to beat out those other ships; measures that include one of the Twins sneaking aboard the _Hannibal_ on its last stop to purchase illegal musical instruments in the colony closest to Earth.

His mission is simple: sabotage, and to steal their route from the android's hard drives. The Twin had been in a war before, in Singer's Fleet as a foot soldier. The Captain has faith the young man could pull it off. (He should have sent Valorie; he forgot how ambition in a young woman can beat out all other emotion.)

*  
From his perch in the storeroom, watching Mikkelsen and Miss Rohl quietly curate the goods, Dancy can feel the ship slowing down to a halt. As he merges thoughts with the ship's computer, he feels a virus running its poisonous route through her systems and into his. He is able to call out distress to Hettienne's comm before everything winks out into oblivion.

*  
The distress call rings out in her room, and Hettienne looks up from listening intently to a woman on her video screen. She will have serious words with whoever is endangering her ship, and interrupting her mother's voice.

*  
The hostage situation is dire, Dhavernas has to admit. Not only does the stowaway have the android in restraints, but breathing a few feet away is the curator and his apprentice, neatly in bonds. And this is all happening inside the ship's hold a few feet from their precious treasures.

This is not good, she thinks, gesturing to Torres to put charges on the door.

*  
Miss Rohl had looked too young to be a threat, so the Twin had tied her bonds too loose. As nimble fingers untie knots, she hums Verdi's "Va, pensiero" to gain Mikkelsen's attention and understanding. The curve of his lip rises ever slightly.

*  
Dancy wakes with tinny metallic scream as the Twin forces a restart of his program. His unblinking eyes meet Mikkelsen's from across the room and he smiles effortlessly; a comfort, a comfort because Dancy will rather let his assailant burn his circuits to ash before he gives up any information to endanger his crew.

*  
In medical, Fishburne readies the machines for broken bones and lacerated skin; and he carefully calculates all he will need to patch up the android. There had been a time in his life when the artificial was the enemy; but some things are best left in the past.

*  
Mikkelsen is still fighting his bonds as he watches Miss Rohl throw the sharpest thing she could reach – a magnificent stag's head (replicated) – at their captor. She is slight and quick, and shows in her aim that she had more talent than Mikkelsen knew. He thinks of his own daughter and that he may never see her again should this go badly. A terrible sound fills the room, and Torres breaks down the door at last.

*  
With a slash of her knife, Hettienne rids herself of the man sabotaging her ship and damaging her crew. Coolly, she looks to see a crushed late-eighteenth-century Flemish harpsichord and the shatters of a nearly priceless bottle of Bâtard-Montrachet. Dhavernas has her arms around Rohl in a hug that seems sensible, considering the situation if a bit more sentimental than required; Torres is searching the pockets of the Twin, peering at his ID which displays as S. ASHMORE; and Mikkelsen is handling Dancy's severed arm and looking more upset than an ex-soldier should. Dancy finds her eyes and smiles, blithely.

Could be worse, she thinks.

*  
Weeks later, Dancy stumbles out of medical, patched up and diagnostics running fine. (Fishburne's talents are immeasurable.) Against the wall, Mikkelsen waits for him. There's a look on his face that speaks of horror and dread and all those endearing traits of a human who sees life as a long string that will be cut.

Androids know better.

"I'm fine," Dancy says, which is what he always says after he's visited medical; it's a comfort, but he means it. His arm is reattached, circuits welded back together. His soft curls are still slowly regrowing near the crown of his head; Fishburne had to shave him a little to get at the chip in his skull. He means it because he didn't fail his crew.

Mikkelsen's desperate expression turns fond. "I missed you," he says. "In the hold." Humans are so strange, Dancy thinks but keeps his face impassive. As if he's a bird that might fly away, Mikkelsen hesitates as he reaches up to touch his face, run two of his fingers through his hair. "You're very pretty," he says, and obviously regrets it the moment it leaves his lips.

It's a strange bon mot, a compliment that doesn't quite register in Dancy's systems. So Dancy smiles, allows a blush response and looks away per his programming. He expects there will be an embrace, warm arms around him that pull his physical form close. An act that means several definitive emotions, and some emotions that are not quite defined. Dancy expects it; humans are predictable.

But it does not come. Instead, Mikkelsen takes his hand and squeezes his fingers so tight it should hurt, and then he walks off towards the ship's hold without looking back. Dancy doesn't understand, and repeats the encounter in his memory banks over and over hoping for clarity.

*  
Before he left, Mikkelsen's wife of 26 years, had made him promise something: "bring me something pretty from your ship, bring me something we can share."

 

> **three**

It happens, two weeks later.

*  
Dancy finds him in the hold, alone. "Do you miss it?" he asks and watches as Mikkelsen's face changes just slightly in consideration of the question.

"Do I miss the war?" Mikkelsen says, not looking up from the refrigerators he's inspecting. "War is too rich for my blood." (There is an artistry in battle, he is thinking; but he likes better the artwork he sees in this hold, that he sees in Dancy's design, that he hears in Miss Rohl's laughter, that he feels in the captain's leadership. He likes his job and hopes he does it well, with distinction. Reputation is everything, and it's important to him that he is different than those who came before him.)

"If I wanted the fight," he continues. "I would have taken Feige's offer. Do _you_ miss it?"

Dancy knows what he misses and knows better to speak it. "I like it here," he replies simply.

Mikkelsen laughs into a smile; it's a warm smile that starts in his eyes and ends at the corners of his lips. "I like you here."

Pleased, Dancy flashes his own grin, and takes a better look at him. Mikkelsen is in red trainers, jeans, and a soft black hoodie; all comfort and informality. Curators usually wear three piece suits, the finer cut of cloth the better. Mikkelsen would look good in one, Dancy thinks with an eye on the round curves of the man's hips and shoulders. There's a subroutine in his circuits that taunts him with the thought of how good Mikkelsen would look without a stitch on. Dancy blinks once, shifts weight; banishing the ghost in the machine.

Strauss is playing from an ancient gramophone in a corner. It's the famous Blue Danube, which as an android, Dancy finds more than amusing. "The captain would not take kindly to playing with the cargo," he admonishes brightly, moving closer to the speaker to feel the vibrations in his skin.

"Merely testing to make sure it still works." Mikkelsen's head is inside the freezer now, smelling the ice.

The song plays out to its conclusion with a nimble flourish, and Dancy is unsure how exactly to deal with the rotating turntable so he just enjoys the strange, empty sounds it makes.

His eyes close and he takes a quick diagnostic of the ship; all is well, all is quiet. They're several months from Earth still. There's no functional reason for him to continue to be here, to be here at all in the hold. If he were human, he supposes, he might feel shame.

Androids aren't built to feel much of anything, and what he is feeling is not shame.

When he opens his eyes, Mikkelsen is a breath away with an unsettling look in his eyes. "You didn't answer my question. Tell me what you miss."

There are signals a pleasurebot knows to pick up on, and Dancy has to stop himself from immediately turning on a subroutine and letting his programming get to work. He has a choice here. Before, he always had a choice; and then, his decision was to be paid – or not, depending on the client. In front of him now is an actual choice that matters.

And it's a beautiful choice. Dancy can't make it immediately, admiring the strangeness of human behavior that must have brought Mikkelsen to this point.

"Tell me what you miss," Mikkelsen repeats and Dancy nearly hums with a flood of memories of their previous simple intimacy mixed with a hope unfitting for artificial life. He feels; he feels; and he feels unstable. His body shudders. Firm familiar hands, with blood pumping through them, grasp him.

There is a kiss, sweet with promise, in the corners of his mouth. Dancy realizes that the feeling he is experiencing is longing.

"You're a family man," Dancy says firmly.

Mikkelsen does not pull away. "Be part of my family," he replies with an unmeasured heat that surprises both of them. And there is that crushing embrace Dancy expected weeks earlier, chased with a kiss that is much more than a promise.

"Are you sure?" Dancy says, slowly feeling heat radiate in his simulated skin.

"If you're willing."

Longing; and now desire. Dancy wonders if he's broken, and makes his choice. When he presses his lips to Mikkelsen's, he now opens his mouth for a proper kiss.

There's a uniqueness to going at such matters without the ease of programming to make decisions for you; but Dancy wants to try this without any direction from some cold, unfeeling source in his circuits.

The tangle of limbs and clothes and soon there is flesh against artificial flesh.

"What do you want?" Mikkelsen breathes, which is kind; it's an unthinking question from such a warm, human place. Dancy could easily lie, could easily fake a mirrored intimacy.

"I just want you," he says simply and grabs Mikkelsen's hand before it reaches his dick (which only makes a perfunctory performance for those who need it. He was built for form, certainly; but only certain functions.) He kisses Mikkelsen's wrist before sucking hard on two fingers and giving him a hard, determined stare.

It's odd, and fascinating to be fucked in the hold of a spaceship by a man he's called brother in his heart. They are between a Vermeer and an antique chaise from Chesapeake, and he thinks: beautiful is a word to describe this. (There are more poetic and much more crass ways of describing it, of course). Dancy wants to do little else but feel this sharpness in the depth of his core, and listen to how their bodies sound pressed against each other.

It's in the final throes that first names are spoken, and it's so sudden that they both gasp sharply, despite the fact that only one of them breathes air. Mikkelsen slides his fingers along Dancy's jaw and repeats the name, kissing it into his skin; Dancy closes his eyes and is overwhelmed at the unseen force that twists his heart.

Someone says: "I missed you"; the other replies: "I know."

*  
Hettienne knew when she put those two on a ship together, there could be consequences. But better, much better _this_ than slowly going mad out in the black.

 

> **four**

TORONTO: One of the most infamous of pirate queens awaits them at the dock for cargo inspection. This is her second career; decades ago, she ran one of the most successful pirate ships the galaxy has ever seen. The Money did well identifying her as quality control. Ms. Anderson confers only once with Mikkelsen before leaving Hettienne with signed papers, and the ship without a bottle of Château Pétrus.

COPENHAGEN: Hanne greets Dancy at the door with a smile and kiss on the cheek. " _Very_ pretty," she says appreciatively to her husband.

NEW YORK: Pleased with the global response to the goods, the Money orders a second run. The competition will be fiercer this time, and all expectations have been raised. This business is madness, Hettienne thinks, and is more determined than ever before.


End file.
